Rise of the Emerald Princess
by GarGoyl
Summary: AU. Maka is a poor but talented scythe fighter living in the Citadel, ruled by the Star dynasty. When she is sold into slavery as a result of her father's gambling debts, she becomes a mere pawn in a bloody game meant for the crowd's entertainment. But it might be more than just a game... Kid x Maka and more. Warnings: language, gore, violence and lemonade. Rating will go up.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1 **

A/N – Hello everyone, and welcome to my latest SE project. I must confess that in this story I will be using some themes previously employed in other fics I've done for other fandoms, but not too much, mostly IT IS a brand new idea (and I have a lot of crazy ideas, as you might have noticed). So, like I said in the summary, it will be M rated for gore and violence and something else, all the 'good stuff' in later chapters. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

* * *

Large green eyes opened slowly in the now familiar semi-darkness of the dungeons, the girl's ears alert to the sounds of the preparations made for a new day in the Arena. There was a constant rattling of chains as new slaves were brought in their cells or moved around and a clinging of armors, shields and weapons as they were being repaired, cleaned and polished for a new day of glory and death. The blonde forced herself to sit upright in the small bed, pushing the rough blanket away from her bare skin, and stretched her back and her neck. The cut on her right upper arm still stung like hell every time she moved, but it was obvious that Ox would show her no mercy. Quite the slave driver, wasn't he? _But then again, I _am_ a slave now…_ Maka thought.

It was almost noon – everybody in the Citadel would wake around noon and go to bed around midnight - Maka got dressed quickly and went to grab some breakfast, mainly almost raw meat, some dark bread and water. While munching on the food the blonde observed the lycan slaves toiling around – it was the only distraction she was getting before heading to the training area of the Arena where she would most likely spend her whole day. Since she was still an apprentice, Maka had not had any match yet – training master Ox had assessed that she was far worse than just 'not ready' – and she had never as much as seen a real match, not even as a spectator.

Apart from various trades, the Arena was the main source of income for the kingdom of Styx's capital, the Citadel. Many wealthy men from other kingdoms, noblemen and merchants alike, came with the King's and the Lords' permission and were willing to pay good money to be entertained by the most fantastic, dirty and gore fights, which were not allowed elsewhere. Slave warriors were used in these fights and each House had such slaves, who fought to bring glory to it. They were kept in the dungeons beneath the Arena, and it was the training masters' duty to take care of their maintenance and training. Besides being a means of entertainment, the public fights were also the way in which the Lords chose to solve their conflicts, by means of challenge. If the conflict or challenge was particularly serious, sometimes the training masters themselves would fight.

* * *

When the blonde eventually stepped into the training area, the other apprentices were already at work, which could only mean that she was going to get a scolding for it. The large stone paved hall was only lit by a few torches, which sent flickering shadows on the numerous weapons panels hung on its walls. As expected, Ox Ford threw her a disapproving look for being late and shook his head.

"You know, Master Galiel has requested better results from you lot and as of this moment you're all completely useless!" The training master, who was never seen without a pair of bizarre black goggles and who was bald except for two long spikes of hair on each side of his head, gave her a disdainful once over before shoving an old steel scythe in her hand. "As for you, Albarn, you were just a bad investment, but Master Galiel wouldn't listen to me. What the hell was he thinking? You'll never make three million to repay your father's debt! It's going to be a blasted miracle if you make as much as two hundred!"

"It's gonna be a fucking miracle if she makes any money at all. And Kilik is willing to bet that she won't last ten minutes in a real match, but I disagree. I think she won't last two!"

Maka turned swiftly to where the poisonous comment had come from, gritting her teeth in annoyance. Soul "Eater" Evans was a human scythe like her father and the absolute champion of the House of Galiel, he'd had more than twenty matches already and was yet undefeated. The white haired boy stepped from the shadows ruffling his naturally spiked hair and sauntered lazily towards the group of apprentices, his trademark sharp toothed grin plastered on his face.

"Honestly, Ox, why is she here?" he went on in the same tone. "I mean, she's not even pretty. And look, no boobs!"

The blonde's temper instantly flared and she smacked away the hand pawing her small breast over the simple leather bra she wore before shoving her weapon under the boy's chin. "You have a big mouth, don't you, _troll eater_ Evans!" she retorted. "Why don't you fight me instead?! Let me show you why the hell I'm here!"

But Soul simply laughed in her face, pushing the blade away with two fingers. "You do know this side doesn't really cut, don't you, _tiny tits_? Fight you? Yeah, like when you grow up or something!"

"Cut it out you two!" Ox intervened. "Evans, this is your day off, you should rest. The rest of you make pairs and continue practicing, I'll be watching you," he ordered the other slaves, throwing them an overall glance. Then he sighed. Apart from the ogre Orlog, all of them were human and quite pathetic looking.

_Bastard, I'll show you!_ Maka thought, weighing her weapon in her hand impatiently. It was heavy and she'd previously had the misfortune to injure exactly her fighting arm. The cut stung at the movement and she could feel the stitches pull at her skin under the bandage. The blonde hissed and swore under her breath.

"That's a real scythe for you, _tiny tits_, not as light as your dice rolling Papa, huh?" the white haired boy continued to pester her, now leaning casually against one of the stone pillars.

Maka's jaw clenched and she blinked back her tears. Her father, the once famous Death Scythe Spirit Albarn had taken to drinking and gambling after her mother had left him (left them both, actually), to such an extent that he'd ruined them and buried their small family in debts. And he had ended up in such a state that his old associate Galiel could no longer use him for fighting in exchange for the money he'd paid on their behalf to the Star creditors. So the ruthless slave merchant had taken his daughter instead. _Oh Papa, you were such an idiot! Three million! How will I ever raise so much money? _

The blonde rolled her shoulders and straightened her back, doing her best to ignore the stares she was getting, as usual. All the other slaves in training in their House were boys, and although female fighters were not a rare sight she had still stirred their curiosity. On top of that, Maka's outfit only consisted of a simple leather bra, a very short matching skirt and knee length boots and she did not feel exactly comfortable in it. Instead, she struggled to focus on her current opponent – a tall but rather muscular young man named Will, who had been doing some warm-up moves with a long sword, the same kind of weapon which had given Maka her wound in the first place.

_Damn it!_ she thought. Her father had only taught her to fight with a scythe, since he was himself one, but the scythe was usually an awkward weapon, too large and long, heavy and difficult to maneuver except for very few fighters. One had to be very fast to be able to take advantage of its relatively long range and in the same time dodge attacks from an opponent carrying a lighter weapon. And unlike any different weapon wielder, Maka could not carry a shield and was basically without any protection.

"Stop staring, idiot!" the training master urged the boy, shoving him forward. "Fight!"

The blonde gave a tentative spin of her scythe, discouraging the advance of her opponent, before lifting it backwards on her shoulder in preparation for a blow. The boy lunged forward and then she suddenly lowered the heavy, broad blade to the ground, causing him to stumble brusquely and stoop forward. Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, Maka hit him in full with her forearm, shoving him backwards. But the boy recovered faster than expected and thrust forward with his own blade, leaving her no choice but to jump back in defense and rethink her strategy. Unfortunately, the heavy weapon swung backwards by the swift motion made her lose her balance and the blonde landed on her back, dropping the scythe. The sharp, curved tip got stuck between two stone slabs in the floor and Will, carried away by a sudden sense of victory, tripped on the blade and fell forward face first, the long sword flying from his hand.

"Now that was particularly idiotic!" Ox hissed, scrubbing a hand over his face and upsetting his goggles in the process.

"Oh come on Ox, you have no sense of humor," Soul laughed. "Just how cool was that?"

"You know what? I don't know why I even bother with you lot," the training meister said sternly. "You're fucked anyway, you're stupid, you can't fight, you're all dead meat even before walking upon the sand. If the House of Galiel can only have two good fighters and the rest are trash then it's not my fault – it wasn't me who paid almost two hundred thousand galleons for twenty useless scumbags and _three million_ for a dumb little girl who can't even stand on her legs! You'll all be used in the 'filling' matches and that will be it!"

* * *

The High Priest known as Lord Death took a deep breath in the chill evening breeze, gazing upon the cloudless sky, golden in the last rays of sun. The strong, sweet scent of the countless roses in his garden filled the air and he stopped for a moment to contemplate the sheer beauty of the surrounding nature. Next to him, the Great Wizard Eibon sat on a stone bench, slightly bent forward as he rested his palms on his knees.

"He's my only son, you know," Death said, although he knew his words to be useless. "I shall have to ask of him something that I, as a father, shouldn't be. He will probably think me cruel, perhaps he will even hate me for it…"

"Blame it on me, then," Eibon spoke wearily from behind his golden mask. "I know that if this had come to pass in the years of your youth you wouldn't have hesitated to do it yourself. But now we are both old men. Our days have passed, that's why it has to be your son. Would you even trust anyone else with this task? You know it requires a multitude of skills…"

Lord Death sighed and wrapped his black cloak tighter around his bony shoulders. "But how can you be sure… _are_ you even sure that the prophecy, or better said the one who can bring the prophecy to its fulfillment can be found? Do you really think that the one who will finally slay the immortal Ourouboros was actually born?"

"_The one_ was born, not very long ago. I know that much," Eibon confirmed."And I know that we do not have much time, we must find them before the Ourouboros does and puts an end to all our hopes. You should speak to your son, delay it no more"

* * *

"Kid, you're back!" the taller blonde named Liz cried, rushing to greet her shinigami stepbrother, but the younger Patricia beat her to it, jumping straight in the arms of the pale, dark haired boy. She was holding a crooked paper giraffe which got squeezed in the process.

"Patty! You're more and more beautiful each day," Kid said, kissing the girl's short golden curls affectionately.

Liz crossed her arms, petulantly. "Honestly, Kid! You know how much we worry every time you go on a mission without us. I mean, we're your sisters, who else can take care of you?"

The young shinigami walked to the sofa with his little stepsister still in his arms and plopped down, sighing. "I hated to leave you two all alone in this big house, but you know I had to. I realise you were bored thought, I know my father is no fun. What else is new?"

The taller blonde sat down next to him, pulling her knees to her chest oblivious of how bad she was creasing her white chiffon dress. "He wants to speak to you, father I mean. He told us to let you know as soon as you arrive…" she sighed, "I have a feeling that he'll send you away again." The girl grabbed a cup from the low table nearby and poured her brother some wine. "There, you'll probably need it"

"Well, that's the job, is it not?" Kid observed, taking a small sip. "It's not like I didn't know it would suck."

"You know, Kid, I was thinking…" Liz began, chewing nervously on her lip." I was thinking that it's time for me and Patty to do something, about our lives, you know… I mean father picked us up from the streets and raised us, but… well there is a problem. You know we can't make a life for ourselves, or ever have a life of our own without a decent dowry. And we have no dowry. This isn't so much about myself, but Patty… And I was thinking that I could raise enough money for her if we took part in the games at the Citadel"

"The… Iron games of the Citadel? And you would fight, with Patty as your weapon?"

"Yes. I mean, how hard could it be? We are _pistols_, for Gods' sake"

The shinigami shook his head, putting down the younger sister. "Liz, the games are very dangerous. People die in the games everyday, just because a crowd of bloodthirsty lunatics wants to be entertained. And Patty is still too young for this, her range isn't very good and her accuracy not yet perfect. You won't get a clear shot very easily, especially if you are to fight someone who is very fast. And not a clear shot could mean death, for you at least." He stood up, lightly patting the younger blonde's hair. "I'm going to go see what my father wants. We'll talk about this when I get back"

_**To be continued**_


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

A/N – Hey guys! I just want to thank you all for the unexpected number of reviews, favorites and follows! That being said, I promise to do my best to rise to your expectations! And since inspiration struck me, here's a very early and surprisingly long update!

* * *

The audience hall was only lit by a couple of scented torches and the flavored smoke filled the evening breeze pouring in through the large windows and inflating the white silk curtains. The full moon had yet to rise, but the Great Wizard Eibon was already feeling too sick to stand, which was why he had currently occupied Lord Death's usual seat. He didn't have much time left, he knew, but he would not pass away without at least trying to see to the prophecy brought to fulfillment. As the last living descendant of the Emeralds it was a task he was simply bound to by all the centuries his ancestors had spent protecting this land and this kingdom which had now become so wretched. And Lord Death was unquestionably loyal to him and his purposes, but still… it was a hard thing to ask, especially of the man's only son, without ignoring the fact that the whole thing would be a shot in the dark.

Kid's golden eyes trailed curiously from his father's weary expression to the Great Wizard Eibon's unreadable mask. _Why is he here? What's the Great Wizard got to ask of me? And my father looks upset…_

"You must have heard of the High Priest of the Citadel, the one called the Ourouboros, by his real name Moro Pellemargaroth, haven't you, Kid?" Eibon asked and the young shinigami nodded slowly.

"It is said that he is an immortal being. I don't know how accurate this information is though-"

"He is an abomination, that's what he is," Eibon interrupted. "One such as himself should not walk upon this earth and still… here he is. He has governed the Citadel – and the whole kingdom of Styx - for the last five hundred years. He has been keeping everyone under his terror ever since he's overthrown the last king of the Emerald dynasty with the help of the assassins of the Star clan. When he came to power he named himself High Priest and the head of the Star clan became king. He made a king out of a cheap mercenary and he has been controlling their dynasty from then onwards, using them as his puppets"

The Great Wizard paused to assess the effect of his words, but the shinigami's expression remained impassible. _Everyone knows that the Stars abuse the laws and oppress innocents, so what use is there for this little story, I wonder? "_So… the High Priest Pellemargaroth has been alive for five hundred years and the Star princes have no actual noble blood but are instead a bunch of low life hired killers? Is that what you are saying, master Eibon?"

"The Ourouboros has also surrounded himself by a very dangerous shinigami elite, blindly loyal to him and to the dynasty," the wizard went on, oblivious to the comment. "Not that Pellemargaroth himself could be killed by any living man, of course. It is very important to note that, as invincible as he may be, he was cursed by an ancient prophecy which says that one day a woman warrior may rise and destroy him, and when that day comes he shall be betrayed by someone close to him. Now, because he is always amongst his elite of shinigami priests, he has instated a very strict rule for their selection – any relationship with women is forbidden, they must not as much as touch a woman or girl in any way and in fact… they must preferably swing the other way. Or just be… self-sufficient. Women in the Citadel are also prohibited to look at them, under the punishment of death. However, despite his strict measures and precautions, the prophecy has almost come to pass once – with Gala and Maximilian. Have you ever heard of them?"

"I believe the expression 'like Gala and Maximilian' is somewhat of a legendary term used to describe something of the nature of… forbidden love. Is that correct?"

"It is, " Lord Death spoke, before the wizard could and also because he'd noticed that Eibon had mostly gone out of breath from his speech. "But Gala and Maximilian were not a mere legend, as the Ourouboros would want people to believe. Maximilian was one his priests and Gala… well… not much is known about her, other than that she was an exceptional woman who conquered his heart. Maximilian went as far as to break his vows to be with her and they even had a child together, before they were discovered by the Ourouboros and slain. The child survived though and we are his direct descendants." The High Priest watched in disappointment as his son's indifferent expression remained unchanged.

"And?" _What the hell was this bedtime story about?_ Kid wondered. If the Great Wizard Eibon and his father wanted something from him and that much was quite obvious, they might have just as well say it plainly instead of beating around the bush like that. "What does this have to do with me?" _Other than that we are apparently the result of some betrayal which took place a very long time ago. Is that why the 'Death' family must spend their lives doing the Emeralds' dirty work? Because our ancestor chose to turn his back on the immortal Ourouboros? Flawless logic that is! At the end of the day we are nothing but servants, so why would any of this matter? _

The black shrouded High Priest shook his head. "Kid, sometimes I really wish you weren't so blunt. It has everything to do with us! Because even if we are shinigamis and you were created out of a fragment of my very soul, we are still ultimately the fruit of a genuine act of love between two people"

The young shinigami snorted inwardly. _Doesn't that just mean we're half-breeds? And 'a genuine act of love between two people'… funny words coming from you, father… _He settled his gaze on the Great Wizard Eibon, knowing that the Emerald lord was silently observing him. "So what are your orders, master Eibon?"

The wizard took a deep breath and then coughed lightly to clear his dry throat. "The signs have shown me… the girl we were waiting for was born, not very long ago. I don't know who she is or what she looks like, but I am guessing she must be of the right age and she is undoubtedly living in the Citadel. She is the one who can fulfill the prophecy, but she'll never be able to do it alone. Thus, I have decided that you will go to the Citadel and join the Ourouboros' elite core, so that you shall be close to both him and the Stars. And then you will find this girl and help her do what she was born to accomplish."

"But… how will I find her then? How could I possibly know it's her? And why would this presumably very young and probably scaredy girl do what _you_ want?"

"You will know when you see her. And she will do it for you, Death the Kid," Eibon replied sternly. "Because you will make her love you, enough to kill, enough to risk everything for you."

The young shinigami blinked briefly a couple of times, but aside from that nothing else betrayed his inner emotions. "Very well, master Eibon. Everything you asked, I will see it done." With a slight bow of his head, Kid turned on his heels and walked away towards the exit.

"Kid…" Lord Death called, but his son simply ignored him.

* * *

Chrona's head tilted slightly to the side, a thin eyebrow arched questioningly as the magical child eyed the pile of shards which had once been a fine porcelain vase. The Persian rug was upset as well and nearby a coffee table was lying half turned upside down, the wooden bowl of dried flowers potpourri tossed aside in the process, a terrible mess scattered around all over the place.

"Don't even ask, he wouldn't talk about it," Liz said, holding her hands up and motioning with her head towards her stepbrother's room. "But yes, he _is_ furious"

A little later, the pink haired servant made his way into the small bedchamber where his master was lying face down on the bed. Pulling the tight black garment up a little, Chrona sat in an armchair and drew his knees to his chest, watching the seemingly resting form.

"And where have you been?" grumbled a muffled voice in greeting.

"Mostly cleaning the little mess you made in the less-than-two-hours I left you alone, master. That and master Death needed to speak to me, since I am to go with you. We shall leave at dawn. He would speak to you as well, but knows that you are probably in no mood to listen," the magical child replied. "It sounds like a really difficult mission this time"

The raven haired boy on the bed groaned and shifted, eventually rolling face up. "You don't understand, Chrona. This is _exceptionally_ bad! Have we not done enough of the Emeralds' dirty work? Just when I thought I couldn't get any lower, I was 'promoted' to prostitute! And my father says to me 'we are ultimately the fruit of a genuine act of love between two people'! Is he fucking serious?!"

The demon sword sighed and stood up slowly, going to sit down on the bed where his master lay. Long pale fingers reached out to caress and massage the other boy's tensed shoulders over the light, creased shirt. "Now, now… don't talk like that. I'm sure it will be alright"

* * *

The former fighter and now doctor of Galiel's House, Franken Stein could make his way through the poorly illuminated dungeon halls beneath the Arena even with his eyes closed. And he had preferred to keep them half closed most of the time anyway, rather than be met with the sight this sinister place had to offer, that at least until the daughter of his only friend had been brought here. Sold into slavery by his own uncle when he was only twelve, Stein had brought his share of glory to the House in the days of his youth, often making a team with Maka's father, until he had been severely injured and had to be stitched up almost from head to toe. After that, Galiel had considered that his skills as a doctor were far more valuable and he'd never stepped upon the sands again.

In the corridor connecting the numerous rows of cells, standing in the middle of the perpetual fuss of the lycan slaves in charge with the regular maintenance activities, was Ox Ford, the training master of the House of Galiel, facing a stout but small little man with an imposing black beard, known as Jarblack the Hammer, the training master of the House of Zoar.

"Ox, my boy, I had to come and see you, everybody talks that your House is in trouble," the man said good-humoredly."Rumor has it that Galiel has bought nothing but garbage this time"

The goggled boy gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as his face turned beet red in anger. "Very bold of you to say that, seeing how your House has only had… only had-"

"_Only_ twenty victories this month already, compared to your… what was that again? Five? Or was it four?"

"Jarblack, a great man knows when his days of glory have ended, and going around pestering youngsters won't bring you any. Seeing how you can't realise that much, the only garbage here is you. Please remove yourself from our territory unless you are looking for some serious trouble," Stein intervened in a calm but firm voice.

"Imbeciles!" the small man snapped back. "Soon my master will challenge your House and your pathetic scythe boy and the other fire ball throwing twat will be torn to shreds by what we have in store! Ha! What kind of idiotic weapon is a scythe, anyway?"

"A scythe can be a formidable weapon in the right hands," Stein observed, lighting up a cigarette as Jarblack the Hammer turned on his heels and stormed away.

"Thanks, Stein," Ford muttered with a curt nod. "You always know the right words to say"

"It's called experience… sadly it only comes with old age"

* * *

"Doctor Stein?" Maka asked surprised, as the grey haired man stepped inside her cell. "What's going on? I was told there was no training session today"

Stein placed his large palm on the blonde's bare shoulder, making her sit down on the small cot. "Came to check on your wound," he said softly, the now half-smoked cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. "You must have your rest today, because tomorrow you will fight. It's been decided"

"What… _tomorrow_?" the girl gasped, as the doctor's nimble fingers worked to undo the bandages on her arm. He hummed approvingly – it was nearly healed, time to remove the stitches. He rummaged in his pocket, producing a small knife which he held up into the flame of his lighter, until the thin blade blackened. After it was so disinfected, Stein cut out each stitch with great care, eventually covering the now clear, barely there wound with a fresh clean cloth.

"I know, you're not ready yet," he replied. "At least your arm is healed. Come with me"

Maka followed Stein outside in the corridor and walked obediently with the doctor to the iron gates that were one of the fighters' entrances in the Arena. The blonde had never been there before and she glanced around curious. It was just after lunch and the white sand of the Arena shone in the bright sunlight. Yes, sunlight, Maka noticed, much to his surprise. There seemed to be a large light well on the roof, very high above, through which it poured down into the Arena. She couldn't help a smile, as she'd really missed sunlight.

"I knew your father, and cared about him before he went completely amok. And now I care about you," the doctor said, unexpectedly, his voice covering the continuous buzzing of the impatient audience pouring into the aisles and filling the countless seats. "Now, I am well aware that your practice so far has been an utter disaster…"

Maka hung her head in shame. "I am so sorry… I just… don't know what's happened with me…"

"I know you have a lot of potential, Maka Albarn," Stein went on, taking a long drag out of his cigarette. "I know you're good. What's happened is that you're depressed. You're still only a child and such a thing shouldn't have happened to you, but it did. If you want to stay alive and pay that fool's debt, you need to pull yourself together and do what I know you can do. I brought you here today to see for yourself what a real match looks like"

The blonde couldn't help staring in wonder at what she was seeing. On the opposite side from their gate, fifteen meters above the ground level was a large, richly decorated balcony draped with white and dark blue silk, the colors of the Star dynasty, embroidered with their silver shuriken crest, as the doctor explained. The king's balcony was surrounded by the different sections belonging to the Noble Houses, Stein pointing which one was Galiel's. The noise of the crowd died down to some extent upon the king's arrival. White Star took his seat in his balcony, surrounded by his court, and the Master of Ceremonies announced the fights of the day out loud.

"Olverd Whitehair of the House of Eleazad will fight Soul 'Eater' Evans of the House of Galiel, in half an hour," the Master of Ceremonies shouted and Maka flinched, seeing the scythe boy coming into view.

Four lycans instantly began toiling upon his arrival, as there was no time to waste. They all moved precisely, to the purpose, without unnecessary words. Once they were finished with the preparations, one slave helped him get put on his armor - a metal breastplate bearing the silver gargoyle of the House of Galiel - and another oiled it all over so it would be all slippery and divert blows. Then they wrapped red strips of cloth on his hands, leaving only his fingers out - red for luck, after all he was the best warrior slave of their house and the Lord had ordered special care.

"Hey, _tiny tits_! Come to see me fight?" Soul teased the blonde, his usual smirk in place even now. "Well, if I win, cheer for me. And if I die, fuck, don't do whatever I did!" he laughed.

_Idiot! How can he joke at a time like this?_ Maka thought, purposefully turning her back on him. "Just don't get yourself killed, _troll eater_!" she retorted as he walked past her, and she saw the boy's smile widening ever so slightly.

The iron gate on the opposite side of the Arena was lifted and Olverd Whitehair came into view. He was terrible to behold, but the slaughter addicted audience cheered for him enthusiastically. He was about the size of Orlog the Ogre, with long braided white hair and purple eyes. He wore a heavy iron breastplate with the tree of the House of Eleazad on his chest and carried two broad jagged swords. Walking up to meet him, Soul waved his hand confidently at the crowd and the ladies acclaimed him aloud.

"I don't know if you realise, but Evans does have an enormous advantage," the doctor pointed. "He can morph any part of his body – or his whole body for that matter – into a blade, and his opponent will never know where the blow is to come from"

Letting out a growl, Olverd charged towards the boy with his swords raised, but Soul was swift and eluded him. One of the scythe's arms stretched to the side, transforming into a huge, broad red-and-black blade, blocking Whitehair's attack, while the crowd roared wildly. Olverd then thrust forward with the other sword, but the oiled armor diverted his blow. It was strong enough though to make his opponent stumble backwards and he charged again, hoping to take him by surprise.

Galiel's warrior took advantage of his smaller stature and dodged his attack again, but his curved blade thrust into the monster's exposed armpit, where his armor was weak. Soul then quickly slipped behind his back, pushing him forward with his boot. Whitehair fell face down in the sand with a scream and the scythe boy thrust the tip of his weapon again, in the back of his skull, bringing his end. The audience acclaimed in a total frenzy.

Frozen with horror, Maka simply stood there, with her back stuck onto the cold stone wall, dumbstruck.

"I know, a rather dismal prospect, a real match," Stein observed. "Survive your first fight tomorrow and I'll take over your training"

_**To be continued**_


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

A/N – Hello everyone! I saw from the reviews that you're all excited about Maka's first fight. To be honest, I am too, I really hope it turned out okay ;) Again, thanks so much for your support, it keeps me going and makes my day every single time! That being said, enjoy today's chapter ;))

* * *

"And why must _I_ suffer such humiliation? As if it wasn't enough that master Galiel yells at me every time a fighter of ours gets defeated in a match, now that bastard Jarblack has made a habit in coming to bug me!" Maka heard the training master Ox lamenting outside in the dungeons corridor. "And after today's match we'll never hear the end of his gloating!"

The blonde had not slept all night. Of course, she knew that she should have rested, but it had been simply impossible. She might have very well been living the last hours of her short life. Stein had tried to be encouraging about her first fight, but Maka could muster no optimism whatsoever. Ox had said she and the other newcomers would be put into filling matches, but what did that mean? Surely not that they were less dangerous - a crap fighter from another House could still be better, stronger and more experienced than her.

She was brought breakfast in her cell by a lycan slave – the usual piece of dark bread, some meat and a cup of… was that ale? Maka decided it looked rather ominous, aside from the fact that she could not get herself to put anything in her mouth.

"You should eat, drink the ale too. It'll do you good," Stein said, and the blonde realised he'd been standing right outside her cell for a while. "I know," he went on, "you don't see the use of it. But… I think today won't be that bad. I believe in you"

"Doctor Stein, I…" the blonde whispered, blinking back sudden tears," I am very grateful for your kind words"

* * *

She walked with him to the gates area, only this time it seemed a much shorter and more dreadful walk. Training master Ox was there, together with a few of the other new slaves. They looked just as pale and frightened as she was. _And Evans_. What the hell was he doing here? Had he come to amuse himself? Predictably and unheeded by anyone, Ox continued to point out that this was the worst day of his life (why of _his_ life though, the blonde wondered), while the scythe boy simply stood there with a bored expression and a cup in his hand.

Outside the audience was already filing the seats, a steady background noise settling in as they waited for the day's matches to be announced. Then the king appeared as usual in his sumptuous balcony, surrounded by his courtiers. Soon after, the Master of Ceremonies announced the fights of the day out loud, Maka noting that her match came fourth. Then the iron gates of the ground level were lifted and the first pair of warriors walked upon the sands, acclaimed by the spectators.

As much as she tried not to think of it, the blonde felt the tension building up inside her, churning her stomach and stiffening her muscles. Instead, she struggled to distract herself with what was happening outside. Her gaze wandered to their House section, looking for their master. Lord Galiel appeared to make comments every now and then, genuinely interested in what was going on, but more or less ignored by his wives, who seemed utterly bored by the spectacle.

The first fight ended quickly, followed by the second after the break and finally the third – the much awaited match of the day between Haruva, the magic monster of the House of Eleazad and Amberath the Young, of the House of Hamza. Amberath was apparently the favorite of the public, but this time the odds were against him. After an unsuccessful attack, he was run through by his opponent and then swiftly beheaded. The crowd roared wildly as Amberath's head rolled down in the sand.

"Shit!" Soul exclaimed, rapidly downing what was left of his drink, while Maka was simply left staring, yet unable to comprehend what happened.

"Blair 'the Cat' Purple of the House of Zoar will fight Maka Albarn of the House of Galiel, in half an hour," the Master of Ceremonies shouted at last.

_Half an hour… That's how much I've got left – half an hour, _Maka thought, as the lycans of the armory instantly showed up and got to work. It would also be the shortest half hour she'd seen so far. Further to her horror, she discovered that her armor only consisted of a chainmail plated bra which was put over her usual leather one, an equal improvement being done to her short skirt.

"Full breastplates are expensive and easily damaged. Master said none for scum beginners," training master Ox explained bluntly, in response to Stein's questioningly raised eyebrow.

At least the scythe looked better than the one she'd been given for practice. Just as heavy, but the handle was wrapped in strips of leather and the blade was clean and sharpened to perfection.

"Well, it is time. Good luck!" Stein said calmly, with the shadow of a smile, while Evans simply nodded and raised his recently refilled cup.

Maka walked outside on the sand, momentarily blinded by the bright light and deafened by the noise, although it was rather unclear if the crowd cheered or booed her. More likely they were still ecstatic from the previous match. To her confusion, the opposite gate remained closed, but there was a sudden puff of purple colored smoke and the blonde was finally able to see her opponent. A young, purple haired girl with strange yellow eyes and wearing a pointed hat and tight, short black leather dress sat on a gigantic pumpkin which magically floated in the air. The girl gave Maka a curious and brief once-over and laughed.

"And no one shall be denied death," she said disdainfully as a conclusion, causing the blonde to grit her teeth in annoyance and weigh her weapon, already impatient.

And then Blair attacked, taking the blonde completely by surprise. Maka had seen no weapon on the purple haired girl, therefore there was no way in hell she could expect to see a pumpkin shaped bomb flying in her direction in the next second. She quickly jumped to the side, dodging the blast. Scowling, she sought a way to attack her opponent, but the large flying pumpkin Blair was comfortably seated on moved very fast and at quite a height.

All Maka could do was to avoid being directly hit by the bombs the other girl kept tossing, although flying sparks reached her every time, burning the bare skin of her arms and legs. She swung the scythe a few times, but to no avail.

"Blair, we are all getting terribly bored!" Jarblack shouted from the opposing gate, his thundering voice doubled by laughter covering the crowd's noise. "Finish her off already!"

Suddenly something like a whip of fabric sprang from the purple haired girl's pointed hat and in the blink of an eye shot down and wrapped itself tightly around Maka's left ankle. Before the blonde could even realise what was going on, she was held up in the air head down. A moment later, she was violently thrown straight into the wall of the Arena. Maka screamed – or thought she did – as she flew helplessly through the air, in a sequence of nightmarish moments, followed by crushing into something solid. It hurt like absolute hell and she could almost hear a few ribs crack at impact, but she managed to avoid smashing her face in at the cost of her left shoulder.

The stone wall was rugged, awfully scraping her skin, but it also slowed her fall. And then her battered fingers miraculously encountered an edge she could grip with one hand, no matter how painful it was, while the other stubbornly continued to hold on to the scythe. Hearing Blair's obnoxious giggle just a little below, Maka made a split-second decision. With a shout, the blonde pushed both her legs into the wall and flung herself in the direction of Blair, driving the scythe down as hard as she could. As she fell, the blade missed the other girl but cut off a large portion of the pumpkin, causing it to collapse down on the ground, sending Blair tumbling. The crowd cheered madly, once more entertained by what was going on.

Much to her misfortune, Maka landed on her crushed shoulder and the pain almost made her pass out. It hurt so badly that she couldn't even scream and tears slid silently down her cheeks._ But there's no time to lose! Get up! Get up! If I want to win I must strike now!_

"I will crush you, like the little bug that you are!" Blair hissed, struggling to get back on her feet as Maka walked towards her determined. The fabric whip shot out again, capturing the blonde's left arm, but with considerably less force and it only pulled her forward. Maka swung the enormous scythe as hard as she could, just as the other girl launched a pumpkin bomb at her. Blair was cut in half by the blade, but the blonde could not avoid the explosion. She staggered on her feet for another moment before dropping her scythe and collapsing on the ground, face down.

* * *

The Temple of Nights and Days, built out of a myriad of black and white marble blocks, was profiled in a striking contrast against the bright, ever blue sky of the Citadel and it was surrounded by a large, artificial pond, despite the fact that it was literally in the middle of the city. Thus, the High Priest known as the Ourouboros could have his own island of peace and quiet in the middle of the surrounding madness. The pink haired boy named Chrona, already dizzied by the unimaginable chaos of Citadel life, stared in wonder at the majestic columns rising before them, holding both the promise of success with their mission and the threat of yet unknown danger. More like the latter, the servant had to conclude, eyeing the two guards waiting motionless by the Temple doors.

The two twin magical creatures - commonly nicknamed _Clowns_ due to their bizarre colorful outfits and red painted grins – were in fact quite gruesome looking, aside from being of enormous size, and each had one arm replaced with sinister looking tongs. Their helmets were adorned with a pair of equally colorful but visibly sharp horns.

"Well, master, it looks promising so far," he observed, turning to the other boy, wrapped in a black tasseled cloak and looking very grim.

"Oh yes, especially them," Kid grumbled, motioning towards the two Clowns who stood in the shadow, on each side of the doors, like two very large decorations of extreme bad taste.

Chrona looked puzzled. "But surely… master Eibon has arranged everything, has he not? There shouldn't be any problem regarding your acceptance within the shinigami core ranks… right?"

The reaper shook his head and rummaged through his pockets, producing a small piece of paper. "Master Eibon has only arranged for me an interview with the priest in charge, someone named…" he paused to unfold the paper and squinted at it "…Ghuro Kyleh. Apparently he is supposed to ask me some questions and if I give the right answers I will be received at the Temple. However… if I screw up as little as a single question… they'll feed us to the two Clowns there"

"_What?!_"

Kid patted the terrified boy's shoulder lightly and sighed. "Look, Chrona, I know that my father told you to come with me, but I won't ask this of you. The moment we walk through those doors… there's no turning back. If I get the questions wrong I'll be considered 'of impure intent' and I won't be left alive. And neither will you if you go in there with me"

The magical child shook his head and gripped his master's hand. "I won't leave you! I could never leave you, master!" He paused, biting his lower lip nervously. "Um… let's not be negative, okay? I mean, why would you possibly screw the questions? What are they about, anyway?"

"Well I don't know, do I? It's not like master Eibon bothered to find out! As far as he's concerned we're nothing but garbage. Why would he care if we're eaten alive by the Ourouboros' fucking magical creatures?" the young shinigami replied."He's a damned noble, so proud of his blood, 'of the true royals'! He's probably never done _anything_ in his entire life!"

Kid started up the pristine marble steps leading to the dark oak double doors, still grumbling ill-humoredly, while Chrona followed closely. The gruesome guards made no move to stop them – in fact made no move whatsoever – as they stepped inside the Temple. The pink haired servant suddenly felt the need to hug himself as the indoors temperature was significantly lower than outside in the scorching sun, but a pleasant light was filtered through the stained glass windows on each side of the vast hall. Aside from that and the black and white marble walls and floor, there were no other decorations in sight, the interior looking surprisingly simple.

"Why are you here?"

The question had come from a small boy who couldn't be older than perhaps ten, but his affiliation was unmistakable – the large golden eyes with a defiant expression were striking on his very pale face, short raven black hair with a single longer, stark white strand to the side, artfully combed behind his left ear. He wore nothing but a pair of silk black slacks, although – Kid inwardly remarked – all that expanse of bare skin was pointless since he hadn't come of age yet. He had nothing to show for yet.

"We're here to see Master Ghuro Kyleh," he replied bluntly, in his usual voice.

The boy let out an almost inconspicuous snort. "Certainly you must mean Master _Gur Kylee_," he corrected. "Come, he's been expecting you."

_Ah, fuck, I screwed up his name, that can't be good… _Kid pondered as the petite boy turned on his heels, upright and stiff, clearly overwhelmed by his own importance. He led them into a side corridor which looked like a narrower and longer version of the main hall and with fewer windows.

"I am the one called Pure Truth, for now at least," the little shinigami said, "and I also know who _you_ are, Death the Kid. But isn't such a name too obvious? I suppose it must be hard for you to wear it"

"Not at all," Kid replied calmly. "I see no point in concealing what I am. As for_ who_ I am, I believe you have no idea"

Pure Truth rolled his eyes blatantly. "You're a mercenary, just like your father, even if he dares call himself a priest. And I hope you realise that you have a horrible reputation here at the Temple. I've heard that you often fight with pistols – how abominably vulgar! It makes sense, if you were raised in the Provinces. But with my education and training, I for one will never end up with such a reputation. And I pray constantly, so I'm sure the Gods will be good with me"

"Of course not," Kid agreed kindly. "With your pretty face and weak body, surely better educated in how to comb your hair than in wielding a weapon, you'll make someone's whore at most. And if the Gods are good, you might actually get paid for it." The older shinigami glanced down benevolently at the boy, smiling. "If your master thought I'm as short-fused as to go and pick a fight with someone as insignificant as you, he was wrong. And judging by your words, you probably have a crush on me or something…"

Pure Truth appeared horribly insulted, especially by the last part, but there was no time left for him to shoot back any other poisonous remark. They had arrived at a large white wooden door, beautifully carved and decorated with tiny incrusted ivory pieces and the boy opened it slowly, after a soft knock.

* * *

Kid couldn't help a slight grimace and Chrona gasped at the sight of Master Gur Kylee – the priest, seated comfortably in a sort of cushioned throne in the back of a relatively small, light flooded room, was bald and very fat, surprisingly lacking the shinigamis' natural gracefulness. His age could not be told either, yet he seemed to take great care of his appearance. The outline of his golden eyes was carefully defined with black kohl and a multitude of gem necklaces and beads adorned his bare torso, strikingly complimenting the black tattoos.

Kid groaned. "This is gonna suck…" he muttered almost inaudibly, as the priest motioned him to step closer.

Master Gur Kylee was not alone, at his side stood a tall, lean young man, in a position meant to point that he was the Master's favorite. His long black bangs, each of them perfectly lined with white, shadowed his eyes and otherwise quite dubious expression.

"Before you are Master Gur Kylee and his ward Asura," Pure Truth pointed, before the one named Asura waved his hand at him in dismissal.

"So… you are finally here…" the fat priest spoke, raising a ring laden hand to his chin thoughtfully. "We have heard a lot about you, son of Lord Death, and none of it good…" He paused to let out a sort of almost girlish chuckle, assessing the young reaper in front of him. "I have to say, _that_ intrigued us greatly. Even more your father's desire that you should join us. Would you indeed do anything to obey his will?"

"Yes, Master"

"Very well then. As I'm sure you were probably told, there's a small test for you to pass. Take this ball from my hand. If you tell a lie, it will burn your hand and we will know. And I think you know what will happen then – the same thing which will happen if you give a truthful, but wrong answer…"

Kid eyed the black, perfectly smooth marble sphere reluctantly, but took it anyway. _There's no turning back at this point._ _And I've been taught to obey, if nothing else…_

"We do not doubt your fighting skills, of course. Which is why you were accepted for this test in the first place, but… it is your morals that we question, your suitability to comply with our rules and to embrace our values. Now…" Master Gur Kylee leaned to the side and glanced past the young shinigami, curiously observing the pink haired boy who had remained by the door staring nervously at his dusted boots. "Your servant – is a boy or a girl?"

Kid flinched, his fingers closing involuntarily around the ball as he stared at it. _No, there's no way they could know that Chrona is a gender-shifter…_ "He is of course a boy, Master"

The priest sighed. "Look into my eyes when you answer the questions, Death the Kid. Do you consider yourself of 'pure intent'?"

"Of course, Master" _You have no idea…_

"But is your body pure? Have you ever touched a woman, _in any way_?" Asura intervened, his voice a sort of creepy drawl perfectly matched to his shady appearance.

Kid blinked. What sort of absurd question was that – _in any way_? He'd touched Liz and Patty, obviously, since they had been his pistols… and his sisters. But telling the truth about it, no matter how innocent, would have been a wrong answer._ And now the Clowns will eat us! FUCK!_

"Look at me, not the ball," Master Gur Kylee reminded, while his ward Asura was beginning to grin.

_Oh, what the hell, suppose I can take one damned burn, they won't notice._ "No, I have not"

"Have you ever entertained improper thoughts about a woman?" the priest asked, impassible.

"No"

"Do you fancy women in any way?"

"No"

"You're lying, aren't you?" Asura cut in again, obviously disappointed. "Master, he's lying! He was afraid earlier, I saw his hand tremble! Order them both to be fed to the Guards! You can't possibly-" His rant was cut short by an abrupt gesture of the priest's hand, effectively silencing him.

"Very good," Master Gur Kylee stated, nodding slowly, with a shadow of a smile. "Go and rest now, your assignment begins tomorrow"

* * *

"Oh master… this place is very strange. And…um… dangerous?" Chrona observed, glancing around the small room they were to share at the Temple." That child was surely quite rude, not to say anything worse."

"Oh, little Pure-Pain-in-the-ass is not a problem," Kid replied wearily, "but that fellow Asura is already suspicious of me. He'll most likely keep an eye on us and try to poison Gur Kylee against us… That's why, Chrona, we'll have to be very careful. Under no circumstances can they find out that you're… well that you _can be_ a girl. They'd feed us to the Clowns instantly!"

Chrona nodded quickly and Kid sat down on the small, narrow bed with a huff. "What the hell is with this bed? Are we hobbits?" he grumbled as sitting on the low mattress almost brought his knees to his mouth. "And stop staring at me, it makes me feel uncomfortable"

"But master, I think you look fantastic!"

The magic child had always been aware of his master's tattoos, covering his body from neck to toe, but they were usually concealed by his full black suit, or at least by trousers and a long sleeved shirt. He knew they had hurt, so much that in the first few days after 'coming of age' Kid had not been able to get any sleep. But he had no idea how fascinatingly the smooth, charcoal-like designs hugged the shinigami's slender frame, reaching around a large skull which covered half his torso and stomach, with long, sharp teeth ending somewhere beneath the waistband of the black silk slacks.

"Hmph… I beg to differ…"

_**To be continued**_


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

A/N – Hello my dear readers! It is finally time for a new update – I know I've been slow with my stories lately, but work is piling up on me and I'm experiencing a bit of a burn-out which is affecting my progress. But fear not, I am not planning to abandon either of my stories ;)) Going back on the story, there are two things I'd like to say:

1. You know Blair has (at least) nine lives, don't you? ;)

2. No one noticed Kid's tattoos. Seriously? It's _THE MOST IMPORTANT THING_ I came up with! LOL

3. In this chapter none other than the mighty Black Star will bring light into your mundane lives with his magnanimous presence ;)

* * *

Traveling in a palanquin should have been only for sick people or something, Kid though glancing through the pale saffron colored silk curtains which were drawn to shield Master Gur Kylee from the scorching sun of the Citadel. The thin cloth merely blurred the chaos which was the city at noon, people wandering about their business always in a hurry, merchants advertising loudly, children running around, playing and laughing with the carelessness of youth. The young shinigami could not remember a time when he had been so carefree, unburdened by any trouble or task. Maybe such a time had simply been too long back, or maybe it had never been at all.

"The young prince, Black Star, is quite a troublesome character, I'm afraid," the fat priest spoke, interrupting his musings. "You are to be his guard and companion during the day, especially when he leaves the palace and the magic harlequins cannot go with him. They only guard the royal family at night, but of course, they cannot leave the palace. No need to strike more terror among the people of this city… "Master Gur Kylee paused to catch his breath and lifted his white skull shinigami mask to wipe his brow with a large handkerchief. "But let us return to the prince now… The High Priest and all of us, well, we need the Stars to rule as a dynasty if we don't want things to go completely amok. So far the Star kings, including White Star, have all been reasonably docile… which is exactly what we wanted. But prince Black Star is, to put it bluntly, a pain in the ass. He is rebellious, impulsive, loud mouthed, short fused, unpredictable, uncontrollable-"the older shinigami waved his hand in irritation, shaking his head. "The High Priest chose for him an appropriate wife – Lady Tsubaki from the House of Nakatsukasa - a lovely, sweet, educated girl from a distinguished old noble family and we were hoping that, aside from providing him with an heir, she would temper him, keep his outrageous behavior in check at least to some extent. Sadly, it did not happen"

_Great! That is just fantastic news, more trouble!_ Kid blinked repeatedly to conceal his annoyance and shifted on the crammed pillows, trying to keep his legs from going numb. "Um… and what is that you want me to do _exactly_, Master, in the light of what you've just told me?"

"Nothing in particular just yet, young one. For now you will have to make the prince like you and accept you as his guard. Until now, my ward Asura was in charge of guarding both the king and the other members of his family, but it is quite overwhelming and besides, Black Star dislikes Asura, for which reason it appears that he has caused some problems for my ward on purpose… So, it is crucial that he likes you. I mean, if he doesn't like Asura and he doesn't like his wife – not that I could ever understand a man's taste in women, but I suspect he finds her rather dull – well, we must get an upper hand _somehow_…"

"Of course, Master," Kid nodded, rolling his eyes inwardly. At least his superior wasn't bothering to sugarcoat anything and it was better this way. Well, if _better_ was a way of putting it…

* * *

The royal palace stood on a hill, away from the buzz of the Citadel, surrounded by exotic gardens placed in suspended layers. Unlike the Ourouboros' Temple, which displayed an almost somber black and white simplicity in comparison, the King's palace was built entirely out of red sandstone, lavishly sculpted and decorated, giving off a vibe of extreme opulence. But just like the Temple, there were Clowns posted at the doors, with the same bright red, gruesome grins in place.

Master Gur Kylee removed himself from the palanquin with some difficulty and wrapped the black cloak tighter around his form, also adjusting his mask. Kid followed him closely, noticing that the priest seemed to feel at home within the palace premises. _And he probably is…_ he pondered, having had an additional confirmation that the Stars were nothing more than puppets on strings for the all-powerful Ourouboros and his shinigami elite. Which was by no means good news, if indeed the young prince was bothered by the current situation –and the shinigami suspected he was – he would take all his anger out on the Ourouboros' representatives whom he was allowed to strike, namely himself. _What do you know - a grim task for a grim reaper_, Kid concluded shaking his head inconspicuously.

They were led by a servant into a large room, with stone walls painted simply in shades of gold and black and with no other furniture than a small sofa laden with soft-looking cushions, placed in front of a big bronze statue of Anubis in full jackal form. There was a mystery why the Stars seemed to keep references of this ancient god in their residence and why they'd even named some of their magic creatures after him.

"The prince will be here shortly," the servant informed. "But he will want to see his new companion alone"

"Very well," Master Gur Kylee replied with a smile, but grumbling some inaudible swear under his breath as the servant retired without another word. "Now, listen to me, whatever the prince says, do not answer him in any way which could make him mad, do you understand?" he instructed Kid.

"Yes"

"Oh…" the shinigami priest suddenly said, his ring laden hand rising to remove Kid's mask and pull back his hood. "You are a very beautiful boy, Death the Kid. I hope the prince will see that, if nothing else. And if he's interested at least that way, I strongly suggest you don't refuse him"

Kid froze and his stomach cringed at the priest's words. "You can't be serious…" he whispered, momentarily ignoring the fact that he probably should have concealed his reaction.

"I beg your pardon?" Master Gur Kylee hissed in reply, his golden gaze narrowing dangerously all the sudden.

"I mean… you couldn't possibly think that the prince would… um… consider someone like me…" the younger shinigami stuttered, taking a step back. "After all, I'd only be a mere servant to him"

The fat priest waved his hand in dismissal, but his expression fortunately softened. "Oh, there is no problem with that. I think you'll find that 'serving' is quite a comprehensive notion," he said. "Anyway, I'll leave you now. And by the Gods, don't look so grim, we don't appreciate that here in the Citadel. Just smile a little!"

Saying that, Master Gur Kylee finally walked away, leaving Kid all alone to wait for the young prince's arrival. But the young reaper was in no mood to smile, not in the slightest and especially not after what he'd just heard. Was there really no limit to how bad this mission was going to get? He inwardly cursed his luck, Great Wizard Eibon's ambitions and his father's lack of scruples. The time for introspection was however short, as the prince was shortly announced.

* * *

Black Star hardly looked 'royal' in any way, Kid observed – he wore a simple black leather vest with metal ornaments, matched with a pair of fingerless gloves, baggy white slacks and black boots. His bright blue hair, naturally spiked, looked like it hadn't been combed in ages. He wore no jewelry and no piercings, but his scarce upper garments complimented his tanned, muscular body. _A fighter, then_, the shinigami guessed. The prince's turquoise eyes had a mischievous glint and the corners of his mouth were turned into a foreboding grin.

"So," he began, plopping down on the small sofa without any ceremony. "You're to be Asura's replacement in my service," he said, motioning to one of the two servants accompanying him. The man brought him a cup and promptly poured him some red wine. "What is your name? Oh, right – you shinigamis don't have any names, only nicknames if you earn yourselves any. Do you have a nickname?"

"I am called Death the Kid, milord," the reaper – who had remained stiffly wrapped in his cloak by the statue of Anubis – said with a brief bow.

Black Star took a sip, thoughtfully. "Hmm… and I have heard you are very skilled. How does that related to your nickname? What are you good at, Death the Kid?"

"Well…at death, milord." And he was. Kid had been indeed trained to be a mercenary and that was what he was good at. Not at making himself pleasant to others or playing seductive with anyone. This whole thing appeared to be quite undignified _and_ complicated as far as he was concerned.

The prince laughed, downing his cup and then motioning for the servant to pour him some more. "Clearly, as expected of you," he observed, giving the other boy an assessing once-over. "Guess what, I am in dire need of some entertainment right now, therefore I'll put you to a little test. I think it's only reasonable if you are to be my guard"

_Great. More tests. I can only hope there'll be no more stupid questions…_Grinning, Black Star wriggled two fingers for Kid to come closer and the young shinigami noticed that the other servant held a long box in his hands. The prince opened it, revealing two twin long swords. "I understood you usually wield two weapons," he said. "Couldn't let you have pistols though, we wouldn't want to make this too easy. Or at least I wouldn't," he added and laughed again. "Get ready"

Black Star then snapped his fingers and a pair of Clowns walked into the room, waiting for their master's command. "Be very careful, Death the Kid," the prince clarified, "If you lose, I'll let them eat you"

_Looks like one way or another I'll end up eaten by fucking Clowns… Is this supposed to be amusing or something? _Kid observed the two identical magic creatures morosely, pondering on his odds. He hadn't taken the time to study the Clowns before, all they wore were colorful striped garments and no armor, but they probably weren't vulnerable. Their pale white skin appeared to be quite tough and the young shinigami doubted that even pistols could do much against them. He weighted the two swords in his hands – it would probably take very accurate hits to bring the two monsters down, to their necks most likely, but that was difficult seeing how tall they were. _But well, they are big and heavy _– Kid thought –_ I'll have to make them trip on their own feet..._

The Clowns focused their weird white eyes on him and began to chuckle sinisterly, readying their sharp tongs. They then jumped together, aiming for their prey, but Kid swiftly evaded their attack. Unfortunately, the magic monsters were incredibly fast despite their size and just avoiding their attempted blows was hard and, just as anticipated, the skin of their muscular legs and arms couldn't be as much as scraped by the blades.

_Damn, they're so_- but Kid didn't get to finish his thought before one of the Clowns managed to grab his leg with his 'human' hand and threw him into the farthest wall. The shinigami hit the wall upside down and dropped heavily to the floor, one of the swords flying from his hand.

"Chew time," the magic creature chuckled, while drool began to drip at the corner of his mouth.

Groaning, the reaper managed to somewhat collect himself from the floor and pick up the sword before the two pounced on him. The weight of their massive bodies was suffocating and they had him trapped this time, but their greed got the best of them as they pounded blindly with their tongs in the narrow space between themselves and the wall. It was close, but taking advantage of their momentary confusion as the Clowns now desperately groped under each other's bodies, Kid found an opening and jumped on top of both of them and thrust his blades simultaneously into the back of their necks, viciously pushing and twisting them until the spines cracked.

Stumbling slightly, the young shinigami got off the two enormous corpses, panting. He'd lost his cloak in the fight and he'd gotten several scratches on his arms, but it was nothing. There was a deeper gash right under his left cheekbone and it stung like hell, but that would heal too, perfectly. The young prince, looking thoroughly entertained - if nothing else – downed his cup and stood from the sofa, sauntering slowly to where Kid stood. With a grin, he reached out and wiped the blood off the reaper's cheek with his thumb.

"That was… acceptable, I suppose," Black Star concluded.

* * *

Green eyes blinked slowly, sleepily, focusing with some difficulty on the figure of doctor Franken Stein. The doctor leaned in some more, smiling gently, moving to adjust the small pillow placed under the blonde's head. "You're a fast healer," he said softly. "It was a bit of a tough wound to deal with, but most likely it won't leave any scars"

Maka let out a breath, closing her eyes again. The rather large area on the right side, just below her rib cage, still stung like hell. A tight bandage had been used to put back and keep her crushed left shoulder in place, but Stein was optimistic about that too. She would make a full recovery. "What… about… my… match?" she whispered. "Master… is… pleased?"

"The match was fine," Stein replied, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "More than fine, it was great actually. And you clearly seem to have an inclination towards the spectacular, I hadn't thought of it. The crowd likes that"

"Not to mention, you managed to fuck yourself up spectacularly from the first match too. You know, most people either win cleanly or die likewise," a familiar (and quite obnoxious) voice pointed out. "And now I feel like an ass, because to be honest I never found myself preoccupied in the slightest about whether _Master_ was pleased with my victories or not. Oh, I have been so selfish!"

The blonde opened her eyes again and tilted her head a bit, to see Soul 'Eater' Evans leaning in the doorway of her cell. "You should… feel like… an ass because… you are one!" she croaked in reply. "Have you… nothing… better to… do than… bug me?"

"Um…no?"

"Listen to me, the only thing that matters now is that you survived your first match and that you'll be alright. As promised, I spoke to Ox and I'll be taking over your training as soon as you're up for it," the doctor intervened, blowing a soft cloud of smoke. "All you need to do now is get plenty of rest"

Maka could only manage a sad smile in reply. "I… can't stop thinking… about that girl. It was just…so… gruesome. The way she…died"

"Oh, by the Gods, you're not really worried about Blair, are you?" the scythe boy asked ironically. "Didn't you figure out that she's a magic creature? She cannot die, only kill others," he snorted laughing. "I had a match with her too, back when I was a beginner. It went badly, she almost got me fried. But later on, that night, she came to my cell and… it was fucking amazing! Hell, it still is every now and then"

_Now that was the last thing I needed to hear!_ Maka was rather mortified by that statement. "Are you a c-complete idiot, _troll eater_?! How can you… even say that… you're having an… affair w-with someone from a rival House?" she tried to shout, but her voice only came out even more rasped and weak.

Soul rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Of course, my apologies," he said placing a hand on his chest. "I wasn't expecting _tiny tits_ to appreciate the benefits of a good fuck." Even Stein chuckled at this and the blonde turned her head on the pillow, absolutely disgusted. Men were such a complete disappointment, _all of them_.

_**To be continued**_

A/N – Aaaand I have to warn you people that Kid will also have an affair with Black Star, while Maka might have one with Soul before the occurrence of their grand romance… depends on how you positive or negative you feel on the subject. And yes, _explicitly_ so, hence the anticipated change in rating. Let me know ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

A/N – Hello my dear readers (and Season's Greetings)! Thank you all so much for the support you've given this story and I hope it is as entertaining for you to read as it is for me to write. And yes, I know, another delay… But as you may or may not know, inspiration is a fickle muse. It has happened before and it will happen again, for thus it has been since the beginning of the 12th century, ever since the legend of Excalibur came to be. Okay, enough stupid ranting! LOL.

* * *

"Just as promised, today I will begin to train you," Franken Stein said. "Seeing how you've barely just recovered, we will start with some very light exercises"

Maka let her gaze wander over the deserted training area – it felt safe here, for now – but soon she would have to go back there, in the Arena. And to think she'd barely survived her first match. The horror of it had haunted the blonde the whole time she'd spent lying helplessly in her dark cell, despite the fact that she knew now that Blair, being a magic creature, had not really died a horrible death as she'd first thought. But at the end of the day, that had been just a fortunate happening – sooner or later she would have to kill someone. _Or be killed_. At the rate things were going in this business of death, Maka could only hope at most to stay alive for as long as it took to repay her father's debt to Galiel, enough to keep him out of the debtors' prison. _But even if I succeed for a while… my life will eventually end here, on the white sand of the Arena… _

Trying to shove these gloomy thoughts from her mind for now, the blonde walked up and picked her practice scythe from the panel. Compared to the one she'd had in the actual match, this one was rusty and poorly kept, but it was still heavy as hell and a pain shot through her arm and her side, causing Maka to nearly drop it.

"Like I said before," Stein went on, "your match happened to be quite spectacular and the crowd liked it." He slid the stitched white robe off his shoulders and took the weapon from Maka's hand, advancing to the center of the wide open space. "In theory, it makes sense, the scythe is a spectacular weapon," he said, flexing his muscles and twirling it above his head with ease before giving it an expert spin, causing a sharp swish of air, "but only if wielded by someone with enough skills and physical strength. Otherwise, without the speed and dexterity to keep one's opponents at bay with its long range and without the muscle to keep it up right, it becomes a most awkward, inconvenient and ineffective kind of weapon." The doctor ended his sentence by sending said weapon flying, causing its blade to stick almost halfway into the wooden panel.

"You, however, are quite tiny," he went on, "and there is a big difference between a human demon scythe like your father and one made of steel. Now, you may have managed the first match with a wrong kind of weapon, but it's a bet I strongly suggest we don't place twice. You'll have to learn to wield other weapons, more suitable for your own strength"

Maka gasped, now utterly confused. "But… you don't understand, Dr. Stein! Master Galiel paid for a scythe wielder, he won't accept that I fight with other weapons! He won't care if-"

"Galiel paid for someone who can bring him victories and thus money, just like everyone else," Stein replied calmly, lighting up a cigarette. "A _dead_ scythe wielder is of no use to him. The only scythe suitable for someone your size would be Soul Eater, but he never fights in full weapon form and besides, he's the champion, so Galiel would never put him in danger by entrusting his life to someone as inexperienced as you. That being said, forget about scythes for now"

* * *

This was bad news, Maka could guess that much. Of course, she was grateful for the effort Dr. Franken Stein was putting in training her thoroughly, but Ox had had his objections to it - as anticipated – and she guessed so did Galiel. The truth was, ultimately, that she'd been bought for that ridiculously high amount as a result of her father's reputation, but that was something the blonde could not hope to match anytime soon, with or without a scythe. And now, if she wanted to make money for her master, she would have to prove herself the kind of fighter people would place their bets on, first.

Maka swung the two short swords simultaneously, before hurling them forward and thrusting both blades in full into the body of the wooden dummy she was currently using for practice. William, the boy she had practiced with in the beginning, had died on his first match, back when she was still recovering from her wounds, as well as most of those who had arrived with her. _I guess that makes me lucky or something… _She had quite gotten the hang of short swords and maneuvering a medium size shield since Franken Stein had begun training her personally, but the new weapons made her feel far less safe than the heavier, more uncomfortable scythe, because they involved closer range fighting and that was much riskier too. She wanted her scythe back, but the doctor was right – probably the only such weapon suitable for her was Evans, Maka thought, observing the white haired boy wasting his practice time with the other valued fighter – Kilik – a bit further away in the training area.

_Except, of course, _troll eater_ is out of the question for more than one reason… Fighting with a human weapon only works if there is a certain degree of soul resonance between the fighter and the weapon – and I had that with my dad, but I'd probably never feel such a thing with him. And besides, he'd never help me…_

Tossing the swords aside for now, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and the back of her neck with a towel as she headed for the water barrel. Doing her best to avoid as much as glancing at the pair, she had reached for a cup when suddenly Kilik blocked her way.

"Miss Albarn, I couldn't help but notice a certain longing in your lovely eyes as you were looking at us," he said, "Is there anything at all we might assist you with?"

Taking a deep breath to suppress her temper, Maka straightened her back as she faced the scythe boy, completely ignoring his friend. "I want you to fight with me," she said sternly, her hands balling into fists at her sides in determination. Perhaps she shouldn't have said it, it was a bad idea and most likely pointless. And it would amuse them greatly, if nothing else, but she had to speak her mind. Now.

"Woohooo, the woman wants you, man!" Kilik giggled drunkenly, elbowing Evans."Told you she did, couldn't help herself, poor thing"

"Kilik, I think you had too much ale. How uncool…" Soul muttered, shaking his head before returning his attention to the blonde. "Come again?"

"I want you to be my weapon."

The scythe boy blinked, seemingly perplexed for the briefest second, before he snorted, genuinely amused."As if I'd let _you_ handle me, _in any way_…" he replied, laughing.

* * *

"How did it go with the young prince, Master?" Chrona wanted to know, as Kid stepped inside their small room and slammed the door in his wake, obviously ill-humored. "Is he really as troublesome as they say he is?"

The shinigami shed his cloak carelessly on the floor and plopped down on the bed. "It went absolutely great, he already tried to kill me. But I don't know if _that_ is the worst part of the so-called assignment. Master Gur Kylee said that I should make Black Star like me at any cost, despite the fact that he obviously hates all shinigamis, especially that bastard Asura. In that purpose, he suggested that if the prince will ever be interested in having me in his bed, I had better not refuse him…"

The magic boy stiffened at the words, fingers clenching around the cup of aromatic tea he was currently preparing for his master. Before being taken in Lord Death's care, Chrona had been exploited in many horrible ways by his own mother, witch Medusa, for which reason he had been created as a gender-shifter in the first place. "Well, ultimately, that too is… just a job, Master. You will carry it out just fine…" he murmured, lowering his gaze as Kid watched him intently now.

"Of course," he agreed bluntly, taking a sip from the steaming cup his servant had offered. "I just wish Master Eibon would have sent me on a mission more fit for my skills. I am a mercenary, I was taught how to fight, not how to charm people! Or please them… I am _not _good at this!" The young reaper ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as he stared hard at the carpet. "I can't even… as much as smile if I don't feel like it"

"But Master, you are a shinigami, you don't have to do _anything_ to be charming to others! Now this might be a little bit of unfortunate phrasing, but everyone here in the Capital thinks of shinigamis as the 'ultimate forbidden fruit'. I'm sure Master Eibon must have had the same thing in mind when he came up with this plan…"

The reaper rolled his eyes, focusing his attention on the tray of food set on the small table nearby." It is an unfortunate myth, more likely," he said, deciding on a piece of fried chicken and taking a bite. _And it's all because of the masks and the cloaks, they must really appeal to imagination or something…_ "I mean seriously," he added with his mouth full, "who the hell would fantasize about Gur Kylee, for example? Or that creep Asura… I'll tell you what – my father has always been devoted to Eibon's cause, but I haven't and he knows it. Now he has found an excellent opportunity to humiliate me, that's what!"

"Um… Master, I know it is none of my business and it really wasn't relevant until now, but I must ask you… do you like boys or girls?"

Kid's gaze snapped up at the question and he blinked quickly, trying to process what his servant was asking and why… well why _this_ of all things was suddenly important. "I am quite fine on my own!" the shinigami grumbled eventually, avoiding to look at the pink haired boy. "And why the hell is that relevant now? It's not like this is in any way about what I like! With a bit of 'luck' I'll have to do both"

Chrona scratched his head, pondering. "I suppose… that just like with any other job, you should not attempt it unprepared. What I mean to say is… um… um…"

His master huffed and rolled his eyes. "You mean to say that I am pathetically inexperienced and I will, as a result, disappoint. Right? Well, I'm sorry!"

"Does it scare you, Master?"

"Nothing scares me, but it does disgust me a great deal…" Kid said, abandoning the frugal dinner altogether. "Although I suppose it was presumptuous of me to assume there would be a limit to how undignified my mission would get"

Chrona took a deep breath. "Master, if you're not scared, kiss me. Now. Just try it out…" It was probably a bad idea. His master had never tried anything and there probably was a reason for that, past Kid's so-called self-sufficiency and care for his servant's feelings.

The young shinigami scowled and snorted, but stood up determined, facing the magic boy. He placed a hand lightly on Chrona's shoulder, pulling him closer, and then tilted his head to the side, leaning in until his lips brushed lightly against his servant's. After which Kid brusquely pulled away. "I'm sorry…" he said, with an awkward grimace, "I'm afraid this is not going to work". He really didn't feel like doing that and it didn't help that the other boy had gone stiff as a board in turn. And not in a good way.

"Clearly… It's alright, really, when I'm a boy I rather fancy girls," Chrona agreed, sighing, but then he began to unbutton his black robe. "But when I am a girl…"

The shinigami blinked and his breath caught in his throat as he took in the now feminine and bare body of his servant. As a girl, Chrona was, well, _beautiful_, but… he looked into the seemingly lost gaze of those large, pale blue eyes which held a strange mixture of anticipation and carefully concealed fear. He stepped closer and placed his arms gently around the pink haired girl's fragile shoulders, burying his nose in her uneven bangs. Did she really not know that he cared for her almost as much as he did for his human sisters?

"I-I can't… I could never hurt you like this! If I did, I'd be no better than those to whom your mother sold you," Kid murmured in her ear. The servant's arms wrapped around his neck in reply and she silently smiled.

"Master, it's alright, do it. Please… Just a kiss."

The reaper cupped her cheek gently, softly caressing it with his thumb as he eventually leaned in and captured her lips into a slow kiss. Chrona moaned against his lips, giving him full access to her mouth and allowing him to deepen the kiss, as her hands slowly and shyly began exploring his bare shoulders. It was obvious that her girl self liked him, Kid thought, otherwise she wouldn't have suggested this little experiment he was now indulging in as well, although he knew he shouldn't have. The young shinigami strongly suspected it went past a simple physical crush on her behalf – she wanted more. But as things were, he could not give her more, he could not give _anyone_ more.

Chrona continued to kiss him, slender fingers now tangling into his raven strands as she pushed him gently to sit onto the small bed, straddling his lap. Even if it was meant to be nothing more than a brief moment of solace for the both of them, her master's lips against hers and his unexpectedly delicate hands exploring every inch of her exposed skin was more than the magic child had ever hoped for. Kid's mouth then slipped along her jaw line and down to her neck, before he pulled away slowly, quite flushed and breathing hard, resting his forehead against the girl's.

"We should stop here…" he whispered. "It's not fair and-" But then there was a knock on the door, causing the both of them to jump and pull away, startled.

"Shit! Change and put your clothes on! Now!" the reaper pressed, jumping to his feet and briefly smoothing the fabric of his black slacks and his tousled hair. Casting a worried glance back at his servant – now once more a boy and fully dressed, who was busying himself with gathering the meager and mostly untouched dinner – he cracked the door open cautiously.

"Oh, I'm sorry… Have I interrupted anything?" Gur Kylee asked ironically, giving the younger shinigami a thoughtful once-over.

"No," Kid replied bluntly, assuming a neutral countenance. Undoubtedly, the fat priest was quite observant and probably intuitive as well, but hopefully he was unable to guess all the details. _Right?_ He inwardly shuddered at the possibility of the older shinigami discovering the truth about Chrona's abilities, or about his own true inclinations. _Damn it, I cannot think of that now! This was a very bad idea…_

"I only came to say that the prince sent a message about accepting you in his service effective tomorrow morning," Master Gur Kylee said, stepping past Kid into the room. "Surprisingly, it seems you have made quite an impression – now that is good thing," he added, obviously pleased with that particular outcome. "And thus, our work begins…"

_**To be continued **_


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

A/N – Hello everyone! As you know by now, I am in the habit of replying to (most I hope) reviews through PMs, because I really, really love them all and I am immensely grateful for the attention my crazy ideas get! But since I cannot answer Guest reviewers individually for obvious reasons, I will do it here. So many thanks to all of you unknown Guests (especially to Kobi-Meri – you wrote one of the most amazing reviews I've ever gotten on my stories and it really made my day!)

A/N – Starting with this chapter, I have decided to change the structure of updates a bit. Therefore, each chapter will focus on only one of the two main characters at a time (at least until they meet), giving me the possibility to let the plot unfold a bit more. That being said, this chapter will be all about Maka. Enjoy!

* * *

"I know it would make you feel more comfortable. And besides, you wouldn't be alone in a fight so I get it," Franken Stein said, blowing out smoke as the blonde viciously struck the wooden dummy with a blunt sword. "But ultimately everyone here is on their own and you won't find any kindness of sorts in someone who has been fighting for their lives for as long as Evans has. Of course he won't help you. Why would he?"

_Why would he, indeed?_ Maka had surprisingly survived through another two matches in the meantime, but it had all been pure luck, she thought. Both times she had been in a team with other low level slaves and she'd lived not because she'd done some spectacularly good job herself but more likely because the opponents had underestimated her each time, going for the stronger fighters in the group first and thus giving her opportunities to take them by surprise. But team matches were rare as it was and only for 'beginners'. The longer she survived, the blonde knew she would move up in the ranks and things were getting increasingly dangerous. She would stay positive though, thinking that a higher rank and more difficult fights meant more money for Galiel for every fight won – which decreased her father's debt ultimately – but still, how long was she going to be able to keep this up? Thanks to Dr. Stein's very effective and efficient training, Maka was now doing well with spears and short swords even, but those weapons were heavy nonetheless, even if not as heavy as a steel scythe. At the end of the day, fighting was the job of tough men and she was, just like Stein had put it, a tiny girl. A _human_ weapon would have made everything better and easier, but…

Soul 'Eater' Evans was wasting his time as usual between his own matches, hanging around their training area but doing nothing. Kilik had gotten himself injured recently – with his own firepots no less – which had attracted a load of laments from training master Ox on how the champions of their house had gotten soft and slacking off more and more as of late. Of course, all the pestering had only succeeded in annoying the hell out of the scythe boy, who now purposefully refused to train.

_Clearly, he won't help me…_ The blonde stole glances at him from time to time while pretending to focus on her own moves and listen to Stein's indications. He had laughed in her nose the last time – actually the only time – she'd asked him to fight with her. No, he wouldn't help her out of kindness, or any other reason. _Unless…_ Well, unless she found a way to push his buttons, Maka pondered. As her father used to tell her often, everyone had a weakness. So there must have been something she could-

"I think you can stop being so subtle, _tiny tits_, you're failing miserably. How uncool…"

Maka gritted her teeth in annoyance at having been caught staring and Stein's amusement at the scythe's words didn't help either. And when the hell had he crept so close to her?

"Clearly not as subtle as you, sneaking behind my back, _troll eater_!" she replied with a grin, having a sudden idea. If nothing else, she could always try to get on his nerves. "Which makes me think… no really… maybe Kilik got the right idea, just backwards"

The scythe boy's thin eyebrow shot up at this and he seemed to struggle to remember what his friend had said in that respect. Maka could bet that Kilik usually talked a lot of crap, reason for which Evans appeared slightly confused at the moment. She decided to help.

"Actually he said that I want you. Well, I think it's exactly the opposite – I think _you_ want _me_," the blonde stated boldly, "reason for which you were present at all my matches, came to visit when I was recovering from my wounds and the very reason you are here, in this very moment, pestering me with your overwhelming creepiness!"

Evans blinked a couple of times, apparently taken aback, for which reason she feared that she might have exaggerated.

"So basically you think I'm _overwhelming_. Good to know!" he laughed loudly, genuinely amused. "Look, I get it, you're defensive about it," he added circling her slowly, "but it's not working. After all, you're the one who asked to fight with me, so you want me as your weapon…. And only hell knows as what _else_!"

Much to Maka's disappointment, his wits seemed to be as sharp as his blade. _Damn it!_ And now he was laughing even harder. Of course he didn't like her or anything – that much was obvious, she thought – but he was bored and she had proven to be a perfect target for his teasing and an endless source of amusement. _Bastard!_ But, ignoring his obnoxiousness, maybe that was his weak point. To be amused? No, to be challenged, he probably liked that the blonde always tried to challenge him. _Fine then, I will challenge him…_

"Basically both you and Kilik are idiots, if I may say so," she retorted. "I don't want you as my weapon because I like you (which I really don't by the way), but because it would make it easier for me to survive. For both of us, actually – you'd never get hurt in full weapon form"

Evans pulled away, no longer amused. "You know nothing about survival, actually," he said somewhat bluntly, but retaining his mirth. "You're probably still alive because the gods have some twisted sense of humor. But like I said – me being your weapon? Not gonna happen. Can't you see it's just impossible?" he added with a theatrical sigh, rolling his eyes, then began walking away.

"Nothing is impossible!"

Her words stopped him in his tracks and the white haired scythe turned with an incredulous smile. "Really?"

Maka took a deep breath, steeling her determination. "Yes, really. I challenge you to fight me, right now! If I win, you'll at least give it a try at being my weapon. What do you say?" she asked with her chin held up and trying to show a confidence she didn't really have.

"Hmm… very interesting. But what happens if you lose, I wonder?"

The blonde shrugged. "If I lose… I'll never bug you with it ever again. I promise"

In reply Soul puffed his cheeks and made a fart-like sound. "Well I have to say – that is not much of a challenge. Why would I even bother with it? I see no real incentive in it for me"

_True… but what the hell could I possibly promise him? _"Well… what do you want?" she asked cautiously, although asking _that_ was clearly a bad idea. Did she seriously want to put up with the scythe boy's twisted mind? He'd probably find some way to mock or humiliate her further. And she wasn't wrong.

"I tell you what," he said after brief pondering, "If you win, I'll consider being your scythe. But if I win, I shall give you a new challenge, a _difficult_ one mind you. If you should fail that one as well, then… something you may or may not want will happen," Evans stated, his sharp toothed grin widening. "These are – if I may say so - my overly generous terms. You still up for it?"

"Yes"

* * *

Maka picked up the two swords she normally used for practice and weighed them briefly, examining the blades. _A bit old and blunt, while his is as sharp as it gets… damn it. _On that note, it wasn't quite a fair fight, but at least it wasn't a _real_ fight, they would not try to kill each other. However, this was not the stake – she had to win anyway, if only to avoid his challenge, for only the gods of hell knew what the scythe boy had in mind to amuse himself further.

"This is a rather stupid idea if you ask me, "Stein observed from the side. "I don't think you can beat him"

The blonde frowned – at least the doctor was supposed to be on her side! She was getting more and more annoyed with how everyone was apparently kissing the champion's ass by the second.

"I'll give you the advantage of the first attack, so come at me," Evans said grinning, looking completely relaxed.

"As if I didn't know you fight dirty"

Maka took a deep breath and began circling him cautiously. She would not lunge forward recklessly, since that was what he was probably expecting her to do. His red eyes were currently trained on the ground at his feet, as if he were not watching her at all, which made it all the creepier. And then Soul smiled, showing feral sharp teeth, as if he could smell hesitation and suddenly Maka wanted nothing else than to wipe that blasted grin off his face once and for all.

She rapidly jumped forward and hurled one of the swords at his head, knowing he would be distracted blocking it and tried to shove the other in his stomach. Except he moved away faster than expected and kicked her leg with his own, making the blonde lose her balance. He then drew back several steps, allowing Maka plenty of room to stumble and fall on her face as a result.

However, she recovered quickly and now she was really angry, because his smile had only widened at this.

"Are you enjoying this so far?" Evans wanted to know, clearly amused. "Because I am"

Gritting her teeth, the blonde swung both weapons in sync as she attacked once more, giving all she had. Soul blocked both her swords with his right morphed arm, but Maka continued to push at him, almost growling, until at some point she was under the impression that sparks were flying from the clashing blades. Bright green orbs bore determinedly into blood red as she held his gaze for a few moments, nearly grinning herself as she unexpectedly slammed his boot in the boy's stomach, making him stumble backwards. Maka took advantage of his momentary lack of balance and she attacked further, hoping to get him down on the ground this time.

But… something went awfully wrong all the sudden and so fast that Maka barely had any idea how it happened in the first place. Stein would have probably called it a spectacular defeat. She was on her knees in the dirt, Soul's razor sharp red-and-black blade right under her chin, pressed into the delicate skin of her neck, almost drawing blood.

"And I could have fought a lot dirtier, you know…" he chuckled, lips close to her ear. Something like a gasp escaped the blonde and she gulped, wanting nothing more than to slap herself, hard. Damn it, Maka thought, she could show him no weakness. She resisted the temptation to squeeze her eyes shut just to escape the overwhelming embarrassment.

"Well, I must admit – you do have some balls after all. It wasn't bad," Evans concluded, gripping her arm with surprising care and helping her stand up." Clearly, it wasn't good either, though… so I really hope you'll do better with _my_ challenge"

"Which is?" It took Maka everything to force back the angry tears threatening to spill. She wasn't afraid of him, damn it!

"Hmm… I suppose I shall have to think about it…"

* * *

The blonde stomped angrily behind Soul 'Eater' Evans as he strolled carelessly towards the main gate leading out onto the death sands. Maka was doing her best to tune out the terrible sounds of the Arena as they made her shudder in anticipation of horrors to come, but the white haired boy walking in front of her didn't seem to care in the slightest.

"Are you going to tell me why the hell you brought me here?" she grumbled, extremely ill-humored. "You said you've decided upon a challenge! Well, what is it?!"

Giving her a wide, shark-like grin in reply, Soul wrapped an arm around her tiny shoulders and pulled her closer to the gate, pointing to the king's balcony. "Take a good look up there. What do you see?"

Maka lifted her gaze at the decorated, spacious balcony draped with the white and dark blue silk of the Stars. The king was on his throne, as usual, surrounded by his courtiers and guests.

"I see King White Star… and by his side, that blue haired boy is Prince Black Star I think. I don't know who the black haired girl talking to him is and…" The blonde squinted, only now having noticed two figures entirely shrouded in black cloaks, despite the heat. Their hoods were also pulled up and their faces covered by some peculiar white masks in the shape of bizarre, sharp teethed skulls. "Who the hell are those?"

"Shinigamis," the scythe boy replied simply. "Even _you_ must have heard of them. Every girl in the Citadel has heard of them"

Having been somewhat of a tomboy in her childhood and even later, Maka had not been friends with many girls and was rather unaware of gossip and such. She had heard of shinigamis though, she had even heard that some girls liked to fantasize about meeting them, but now looking at the two rather sinisterly looking characters who stood out among the colorfully dressed courtiers she was positively confused as to what the fuss was about.

"Yes I've heard…" she replied hesitantly. "Although… well I don't really get the excitement-"

"They are said to be very beautiful. But for some reason women are not allowed to look at them, under the punishment of death – it's the law given by the Ourouboros himself. That's why they wear those masks when they are out in the open"

Maka somehow doubted that beauty needed be hidden behind gruesome masks. Most likely the shinigamis were some monstrous creatures of the High Priest, purposed to guard the king and his family, just like the Clowns guarding the gates of his palace and the Temple of Nights and Days.

"And?"

"And your task is as follows – I challenge you to draw their attention. It can be just one of them if you can't do both, I'll live with that," Evans explained cheerfully. "If you succeed _that_, I might even consider being your weapon. Fail and… I don't know what will happen…" he warned.

"_WHAT?!_"

"Meaningful insight – it is said they don't like girls, but since you have no boobs it might just work," the scythe boy laughed.

_**To be continued **_


End file.
